Irreversible
by Shnaps
Summary: Very cliché wrong BWL and ditch-happy parents. Weasley/Potter/Dumbledore bashing. Gray/trigger happy/Assassin/semi-super/slightly insane/smexy Harry. Graphic gore and sex scenes. AU. Set in 7th year. Rated M for a reason
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Prologue: Playpen Disasters

"He did it again...Albus, please - I can't just stand by and watch this. Jordan's so weak and Harry...I just-just...I can't!" Lily's sobs were the only thing to be heard for the next few minutes, muffled only by James's tear-drenched pajama shirt

Harry had seemed to have settled after three long weeks of hysterical crying and violent outbursts, and Lily and James Potter had dared put him in the playpen with his brother. They were fine for the first hour, before…

"I'm sorry, Lily, but I'm now quite sure my previous hypotheses is true. Young Harrisson seems to indeed have, somehow absorbed a fraction of Voldemont's soul during the attack. I'm afraid, if Jordan is to fulfill his destiny-" Dumbledore paused, hesitant as a wide-eyed Lily looked up from her husbands chest. James glanced over at Jordan, sleeping peacefully in his rocker, to Harrison in the play pen; smashing action figures into each other. He grimaced as the Ken doll's right arm flew off. Harry started to laugh, clapping his tiny hands gleefully. "It won't be forever" Dumbledore continued, "just until Harrisson is capable of defending himself against Voldemort's mental advances. However, until such a time he deems a threat to Jordan. He must be removed-"

"No!" Lily cried, pulling herself from James's tight embrace. "You can't ask me to give him up, Albus, you can't! He's my son!"

"I'm sorry, Lily. But it's the only way"

"No!" Lily started to sob again. "Please, no!"


	2. Tell Hades hey for me

Chapter 2

Tell Hades "hey" for me

"I know nothing, I swear! I swear, please!"

"Where'd you get the woman?" His voice was smooth and deadly calm, a mere whisper against the contrast that was Cooper's shallow, rapid breathing. The heals of his boots ground menacingly against the dungeon's filthy floor. Cooper listened, imagining vividly the crunching of bones as the figure moved somewhere to the right

"A-a friend. I friend of a friend said-said he'd found her. Said she-she was lost. Said he took her in an' -and gave her a place to stay. I don't know, a swear I know nothing! I didn't know!"

"Who's you friend?"

"McIntosh! Lucas McIntosh! Please, please I beg of you! I have a wife and kids!"

"You're family is not my problem"

"I didn't know! I didn't! I swear!"

"You're an Auror, are you not Mr. Cooper?" the man was back, leaning against the back of the chair. Cooper would have flinched away, but his bounds prevented any such movement

"Y-yes" he shivered, squeezing his eyes shut as the slither of the captor's heavy leather duster brushed against the floor, his iron grip now attempting to crush Cooper's narrow jaw

"And what do they know of me?" Cooper took a deep, calming breath

"They call you the 'Black Phantom', only recognizable by -", Cooper gulped, forcing back the bile rising in his throat as he spoke, "-by your trade mark attire. The Aurors don't know who you are, and looking for you has been getting more difficult. The few photos we had have been stolen and published all over With Weekly. You've set somewhat of a trend. Witching Hour has even started up a line of designer Phantom-Phever clothes and accessorized. Just walking through any magical town half the people could easily be mistaken for you. You're safe...You-you're safe. We don't know who you are"

"An Auror on the trail of an elusive killer, and yet still he claims he knows nothing of the underground traders whom he is targeting, nor that the woman in his possession is of slave stock, or as your…colleagues so refer to them". Phantom mused darkly, squeezing his fingers until Cooper's teeth were cutting into the insides on his cheeks. The victim whimpered helplessly. "Your story is not particularly convincing, Mr. Cooper. How about we try this again". With a flick of his wrist Cooper's head was slammed back into the interrogation chair, a sharp pain fairing through his skull, accompanied by a shocked yelp and a whimper. "You are spying for the Underground, Cooper"

"No! No, please-"

"You are leaking false information to the ministry, and you are a slave driver! I'd thank you; everything you've said and done has saved me a few close shaves with Potter and his little troop of crime fighters, but that does kind of defeats my purpose, now doesn't it? Consider yourself lucky, I was blind enough to overlook the reasoning behind the ministry's ignorance - I'd have killed you a long time ago"

"No, no please! Please don't kill me! I have-"

"A wife and kids - yes, I know. I heard you the first time. But just think - wouldn't it be better that you turn up dead than have them find out you've been thrown into Azkaban. I'm sure Miss DeLauro's family would be quite happy to testify against you, after what you've done to their daughter. Tell me...how would you feel had that been your own daughter?...Or perhaps you already know...perhaps she's felt DeLauro's pain...perhaps she'd be glad to see you gone"

"I've never touched my daughter! Ever!"

"No? ...But you'd say that anyway"

"Please, I beg of you! I-I can help you! I'll give it up, all of it! I'll tell you everything, please just let me go!"

"Tell Hades 'hey' for me, would you?"

"No, please - NO!"

BANG! Even the walls trembled in the Beretta 92FS's wake. An eerie silence followed, broken seconds later only by Phantom's echoing footfalls , his long strides making short work of the marble flooring of McIntosh Manor. The body of Lord Lucas McIntosh himself lay in a pool of his own blood near the grandest of staircases, the back of his head blown out over the precious stone

Slipping his weapon into it's holster, concealed beneath the heavy leather of his coat, Phantom squatted beside McIntosh's lifeless remains. The priceless jewels adorning the victim's fingers, throat and waist were removed and pocketed, along with his wand and high-gloss dragon skin shoes

Pulling at the collar of his weighty duster, Phantom steadily rose to his full height, weary eyes scouting the room from behind black glasses. The dungeons. It was always the dungeons

They were usually fairly simple to locate in old manors such as the McIntosh's - just look for the most out of place looking door in the building. The residents never properly conceal the obviousness that a particular door does lead to a dungeon - it was illegal to hold captives and obscuration from sight was deemed suspicious. That and they're always found on the ground floor. It was for these reasons that not five minutes after he'd taken all he needed from McIntosh that Phantom was scaling the winding, grizzled stone staircase under the earth towards the holding cells

Phantom slowed as the ground leveled out before him; a mere narrow hall lined with prison bars. Six women, dirt and grime all that concealed their fair, naked flesh from his hard gaze cowered in the furthest corner. Most of them seemed to be Veela, to some extent at least. The Underground Sex-Slave Trade always wanted the most beautiful of women, but a pure Veela was always incredibly hard to control. The same was with the Vampires, but they were very rare, and usually died within the first six months of imprisonment due to malnutrition

Phantom shuddered, his heavy leather boot clunking, chunky silver buckles chiming loudly as he moved towards the cell door. 'Silencio must have warn off'. Making a mental note to renew the spell before he left the manor, he withdrew his own wand and cast a silent Alohomora. The aged padlock opened with a click, and Phantom stepped inside the cell

TBC

A/N -

Just to answer any asked/unasked questions, yes Phantom is Harry. I'd have left you to hang over that but, if you've read the summery I think it's a little obvious. All his past leading up to this point will be revealed soon….ish. Obviously he's not at Hogwarts, nor was he ever, and I'm still not sure as to whether or not I want him to go. If he does it won't be for schooling

I've more or less fashioned him after Underworld's leading character, Selene….only Male and not a vampire. The guns are because they have just that little bit more sex-appeal than a wooden stick, and Phantom can just sort of point and shoot without thinking to much whilst he herds the sex slaves out the door. But that's not to say he isn't an accomplished wand wielder

I know "Black Phantom" is very cliché and all together uncreative, but when the Ministry is dealing with an illusive killer who is there one minute and gone the next they're going to go with the first name they come up with, cause that's the one that sticks

When I say he's set a trend, I mean as in the whole gothic vampire look which, in Phantom's case consists of black pants, black leather trench coat/duster, heavy duty black leather boots complete with the thick, silver buckles with matching belt, black sunglasses and whatever colored shirt he chooses to wear on any particular day

Witching Hour and Modern Magic are popular teen fashion stores that combine wizard and muggle attire, and sell the Phantom Phever and BP clothing lines

As of yet I haven't decided if there will be any pairings. I have had one request that it be a HP/SB's daughter fic, but I think that would simply be blowing the cliché of it all completely out of the water. I've never really been fond of HP/SB's daughter fics. That...and, I don't know about you but Phantom doesn't really strike me as the romantic type

Yes, I do intend for chapters to get longer

And to those of you who don't like this story and get off poking nasty reviews at people, I honestly don't care as to how long it takes you to piss, okay? Constructive criticism is great; vulgar, hateful reviews will be used to publicly humiliate ;)

My story, my way. Love it or leave it


	3. Fight and Flight

Chapter 3

Fight and Flight

The hardest part of any mission was getting the slaves to trust Phantom enough for them to follow him willingly. Of course, on most missions there was only one or two slaves to free. In this case he was glad he'd managed to correctly anticipate the time of departure; that didn't happen often. If seemed whenever he made the effort to create a pot key he was side tracked, usually by guards or other residing personnel, and went off slave-less in his jacket. Of course, it would have been more convenient had this been one of his "fight and flight" episodes, but none the less the women would be easily and quickly transported to Phantom's safe location before any ministry officials were alerted

Checking his watch Phantom quickly extracted the plastic muggle-made necklace from one of his inside pockets, kneeling down before the wide-eyed women, who now seemed more curious than terrified of the intruder

"I'm a friend" he stated matter-of-factually to the nearest women, holding the necklace to her in his open gloved hand. She blinked owlishly at him, her gaze flickering nervously from his face to the proffered, cheap piece of jewelry and back so fast he wasn't sure it'd happened at all. "It's a port key - it will take you away from here. Somewhere safe with food and water, clean clothes and warm beds to sleep in...you won't have to worry about serving any man...all you need to do is trust one. Just once". He pushed his hand forwards slightly as the women flinched backwards

"Show us your face!" another, slightly older looking woman demanded. There was a quiver in her voice, despite the forcefulness of her tone, and she seemed to shrink down behind the rest of the mob as Phantom's attention turned to her

"If I do...will you take it?" He let the chain slip down between his leather clad fingers, and held the dangling star shaped pendant higher. Phantom hoped they wouldn't be to difficult to convince - there was little time before the port activated and his toes were starting to cramp

There was a pregnant pause before the woman nodded jerkily, and Phantom unwillingly lifted a hand to his face - he hated doing this. Revealing his identity to those he barely knew was something he was very uncomfortable with, to put it gently. Particularly when you have the whole countries law enforcement after it, as well. His face was his best kept secret, and it was put on the line every time his glasses were removed

He'd obliviate them later, but there was always that chance someone would break through the magic that bound their memories of him

Adjusting his eyes e slipped off the black sunglasses, watching as the women's eyes scrutinized him. Phantom knew he was handsome...he knew women thought so, too. Or, at least the women who weren't too traumatized of men to care about weather or not he was good looking. The slaves always seemed more calculating that awed. It was a shame, really. Underneath the cool charisma and calm exterior, Phantom really did throw an awful lot of willpower into turning down a sex slave's 'thanks'

Holding the port key out again, the voice of the six hesitantly reached for the pendant, snatching her hand back several times before eventually grabbing it, and shrinking down behind the mob. "You'll all need to touch it" Phantom instructed. The women each reached for their own piece of plastic, some more boldly than others. "Hold one of the other girls hands, too, just in case you slip. Don't let go until you see a white room and a lounge. There are clothes in the draws. Do whatever you like, just don't leave. I'll see you there". With that he stood, slipping his black sunglasses onto his face. A couple of the women flinched back. 'Three…Two…One'; the necklace glowed blue, and with that the slaves were gone

Mentally congratulating himself of another mission well executed, Phantom drew his wand, directing a quick Silencio to his boots and swaggered out of the dungeon to clean up his mess

James Potter was having a very good day. Not five minutes after entering the office had the Intruder Sirens for McIntosh Manor gone off. There were very few people who could breach all the wards in order for the ministry alarm to have gone off at all...Voldemort, Death Eaters, perhaps even a member of the Order. But one name rang clear as a bell through James's min

Unknown, unchallenged, uncatchable; Black Phantom was an entirely new breed of killer. Well accomplished in the art of both wizard and muggle dueling, equipped with some of the ages best weaponry, smart, _fast_. For little over a year, James and his small off-side team had been trying to track down and capture the evasive murderer. Twice he'd been so close he could have reached out and grabbed his coat, maybe snatch his dark glasses of his face. He'd been too slow, and Phantom had disappeared

_'Not this time_' James thought savagely, barking out orders to his team stationed in various places around the building. There was no escape; he was completely surrounded. '_This time, you're mine_!'

Time seemed to freeze. They waited, wands raised, each man and woman at the ready for the first sign of movement

And movement there was

The front door gave a small creak as it swung open, and a figure clad in black was visible in the entry way. James found himself a little disappointed - not quite the entrance he'd expected. But none the less, there was no mistaking who stood, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights, framed in the door way of McIntosh Manor

"TAKE HIM!" James hollered, starting to fire off curse after curse at the leather-clad man. With a swish of his duster, Phantom was off, drawing two hand guns from their belt holsters

More of James's men came in through the back, cutting off escape to the top floors, as James himself charged in through the front doors. Phantom, now completely closed in by two rows of Aurors sporting magical shields, was turning helplessly on the spot, looking for a weak point in the lineup. James grinned coldly. There was none

"Give it up, Phantom, we've got you. You're out numbered a hundred to one". For a brief moment he didn't move, and James dared hope for a second he'd surrender. That shred of light was quickly diminished, however, when Phantom raised his weapons higher, until James was staring directly into the barrels of the guns. The gleaming silver Berettas started glowing an angry red, and Phantom pulled the triggers

TBC

A/N: Not sure I like this chapter...it's lacking something...I dunno. Anything anyone don't understand, or have I been pretty clear?


	4. Stan's Purple Ticket

_**Black Phantom Escapes Again**_

_**James Potter, renowned Auror, dedicated husband and father of one lay severely injured in St. Mungos ICU after his latest run-in with the illusive public menace, known almost affectionately as Black Phantom. The famed serial killer and teen fashion icon allegedly shot Mr. Potter in the neck and shoulder after he was cornered in -**_

_Severely injured...that'll teach him to keep his nose out of my business! _Harry sighed, laying that morning's Daily Prophet down on the table. Good ol' Rita Skeeter, he always got a kick out of some of the literal dribble she wrote about him. This time she seemed to have some of the story right, not that he cared enough about what the rest of the world thought of him to continue reading. They had no idea what benefits his actions had for the entire women population throughout Europe. And he wasn't going to tell them, either - if they were to blind to see past the threat of Voldemort, and yes, granted he was a threat, long enough to realise the rest of the world was going to the slave drivers, then fine - he'd just carry on with what he did and eventually the criminals and the authorities would realise exactly what his "pattern" consisted of. According to what he'd read of the papers, Aurors were under the impression he was targeting the rich bitches...up until dear old Mr. Cooper. But then what's a murderer without his joy-killings, ey?

But Potter showing up at McIntosh manor so quickly had caught Harry off guard - he was getting smarter. Not necessarily any closer, but smarter. Security levels in the average household had been tightened tenfold over the past three months, and with Phantom's most recent breach of some of the absolute highest levels of warding, the wizarding community's most 'upperclass' citizens home's were going to be near impossible to break and enter, let alone give Phantom the time to do his job. He'd have to move quickly if her wanted to get to Canterbury before Erish Estate sealed it's doors shut. And sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee wasn't going to do the deed

Harry had no solid proof that Benjamin Erish had invested in turning his home into a slave holding facility, nor that Benjamin or any of his sons were indeed associated with the slave-drivers, but it was all the leads he had given his limited sources and time in which to investigate. It was going to be a particularly tricky mission, without the proof Harry wouldn't take a life unless is was absolutely necessary. Part of him hoped he would kill them...Another man dead and another hoard of

slaves freed would, at the very least lead to more information, and another step closer to Ruby

Harry's hand came habitually to his chest, where the smooth gold surface of an oval pendant rested against his bare skin. Fingering the pendent through the red cloth of his shirt, Harry's eyes drifted to the stars. Ruby loved the stars - she'd always said she wanted to be up there, with them. Why she would want to live up in space with great, big, revolving balls of rock and gas Harry would never understand. But now, staring up at the night sky where billions upon billions of twinkling lights shone down on him, he supposed he could see the more romantic side to her musings...As they were from where he was standing, breathtaking

But terrible. As they were every night since he'd gotten her letter. Ruby could not see the stars now. Harry wondered if she could see anything at all, anything but dirt and grime and pale, naked bodies - bruised and bloodied and festering, and the cruel smiles of the men she was forced to serve. She was no slave - Ruby was strong and powerful in both will and magic, but she was small and delicate in body. Beautiful, elegant, delicious, and she always tasted of vanilla and some foreign spice he could never quite place, her hair smelt of strawberries and nectar, and her body always warm and welcoming and fragrant. And her lips, lush and red...sweet Jesus, her lips...

Not anymore. Now she would be cold and guarded; used and abused until she bruised and bled. Laughed at as men took their turns using her body, his body for their sick pleasure, and she screamed and screamed until she could scream no more. Nine months she'd been gone, nine months since he'd received her cry for help, nine months since Harry's heart had shattered, and in it's place took the form of the Black Phantom His breath came in shuddering gasps as he gripped the edge of the polished wooden table, rage coursing through his veins, into his very bones and soul until all he saw was red. Red like the colour of the ruby, red like the colour of her lips, red like the colour of her blood. And he vowed all over again to butcher each and every being who'd ever caused her harm

Storming down the hall, Harry burst into the back room and started pulling all necessary weaponry from their mounts over the wall, and placing them carefully in his leather duffle bag, along with his "Phantom" outfit. His favourite pair of guns, Phantom's trade mark Beretta 92FSs were slipped into their holsters, held in place around his waist, and his wand strapped to his forearm. Once packed, and adding a small sack of Weasley's Wizard Wheezers instant darkness powder as an afterthought, Harry shrunk the baggage and stuffed it into his right sneaker. A second bag, filled with an assortment of hygiene keeping items and toiletries, a set of smart silk business robes and a change of casual muggle clothes, was slung over his shoulder

Looking just as any normal teenage boy would, clad in a pair of black sneakers, fades grey jeans, and red "Weird Sisters" T-Shirt, topped with a leather jacket to conceal the "Betties", Harry stepped out into the cool night air. Inhaling the fresh scent, he sighed calmingly as the crisp atmosphere penetrated his chest. He'd find her. He swore it to her five years ago whilst dancing on the Orphanage porch to Shakira's "Wherever, Whenever'. They'd laughed about it back then...Not anymore.

Forcing his mind to more casual thoughts, like what he'd have for dinner once he got to Canterbury; The Bronze Broomstick Hotel hidden away in Rose Lane always served good lamb shanks, Harry stepped casually out onto the street, discreetly slipping his wand out of his sleave. Although Harry was just as skilled in the art of apperation as any wizard, there were no safe apperation points in or around The Bronze Broomstick, and Rose Lane being such a small, quiet street, Apperation was sure to attract a bit of unwanted attention. He could flu, but that always made him feel sick, and not legally existing meant Harry's small suburban home was not connected to the floo network, and he really didn't feel like breaking into old Mrs. Morris's house again. It was probably the only crime he'd committed that he'd felt the twinge of guilt over Harry walked four blocks to the local park, murmuring the tune to Linkin Park's 'Bleed It Out', whilst mentally kicking himself for accidentally putting his iPod through the washing machine the week before. Sighing heavily , wand held firmly in hand, he stuck his right arm out over the gutter, and quickly pulled it back out of the way as an almighty BANG! broke the silence of twilight, and a violently purple double decker bus pulled up out of no where

"E'lo, Stan" Harry greeted the ticket master, grinning

"'Arry! 'Avn't seen you in a while then, ey. Where've ya been?" the acne-faced twenty-something year old exclaimed as Harry stepped up onto The Knight Bus, shrugging

"A bit of everywhere, really", Harry replied casually. It was true, only Stan was under the impression that Harry was a simple traveller looking for his fortune. He'd lost count how many nights they'd spent arguing over wether or not Harry should just get a 'real' job like Stan, or Phantom's strange killing patterns (in which Harry had kept himself very tight lipped), or Voldemort's preference in underwear. Stan still reckons he's into the Jordan Potter boxer shorts, gag-blanch-wrench. "Reckon you can get me to Canterbury before midnight?" Stan 'hmm'ed dramatically "It'll cost yeh, got ah few passengers on 'ere tonight. Tell yeh wha', two galleons, we'll head to the Leaky th'n strait to the Bronze. 'Ave yeh there by ten, no worries"  
>"Deal". Harry's hand dove into his pocket, pulled out a couple of gold coins and swapped them for Stan's purple ticket<p>

"Pleasure doin' business with yeh, sir" Stan grinned greedily. Harry knew he'd been ripped off...again, but it didn't bother him too much. It was either that or stand here all night, arguing and wasting time. The mission was for more important to him that a few extra sickles

"Do me a favour, change one of the beds to a chair for me?" Stan clicked his fingers once, and the fourth bed from the front right hand side instantly morphed into one of the bus's cozey armchairs. "Thanks"

Harry sat down and got comfortable whilst Stan had a quick word with the driver, then, with another deafening BANG! they were off again, whirling at break neck speeds through the countryside on their way to The Leaky Caldron, London

_**A/N:** Another short chappy people and I do appologise. Word seems to have died on this computer, it is simply refusing to work, and have now had to resort to Notepad and my e-mail for spell check, which I will just have to make do with for now. So sorry about any spelling errors. I'll keep this tid bit short Things will get a lot more interesting and lllooonnngggeeerrr as of the 5th chapter. Hope you enjoy it anyway_

**_Q: _**The slaves are free becaue of Harry, so why the Aurors want to arrest him?_ - history  
><em>_**A:** Simply because the 'biggest threat', being Voldemort, has them all blind to the fact that half the woman who had gone missing, and never been found had been caught by the Underground Slave Drivers, a well hidden and secretive group of organised criminals. Phantom is killing people, and of course that would automatically link him to Voldemort as a Death Eater or ally of some description_

_And please concider this sente__nce as a disclaimer ;)_


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